A/N: A Christmas request fic for lexus_1827 at Dreamwidth who requested: Inspired by a doujinshi summary I read a long time ago; I want to see Izaya at a club, dressed up as a woman (maybe to get some information?). Shizuo and Tom happen to be at the club at the same time, and, not realizing that it's actually Izaya, Tom proceeds to push Shizuo into flirting with Izaya. Bonus points if Shizuo does it badly (i.e. cheesy/bad pickup lines) and maybe some making out at some point? Double bonus if he later finds out that it's Izaya!

Undercover

Ah, the things he did for his work…

At the bar, the pounding beat of the club's dance floor was little more than a muted thump, a vibration that worked its way through the stool on which he perched demurely. Izaya tapped his nails against the stem of his wine glass in time to the beat anyway, sighing softly at the chink of acrylic on crystal.

There weren't enough zeros on the payment that would be wired to an offshore bank account once the information he gathered here tonight was handed over, although the money was rarely a motivating factor in jobs like this. No, the lure had been the opportunity to observe his humans' behaviour from a new perspective. Toying with them online was one thing; they expected a certain amount of mystery and mistrust there, where anyone could be lurking behind those enigmatic pseudonyms. They were always guarded, particularly the ones who had been deceived before, the ones who turned skepticism from a survival trait into a way of life.

It was different face-to-face. So much harder not to take things at face value when you were looking at another human being across a smoky bar. In person, intelligent questions and reasonable doubt were forgone in favour of primal instinct.

Humans were such visual creatures, after all. If they saw it with their own eyes, clearly it was infallibly, irrefutably true. They relied far too heavily on that single sense, when even lowly beasts utilized at least three; how else could he explain the way Shizu-chan always seemed to know whenever he set foot off the train?

Hopefully tonight he'd managed to avoid the protozoan's attention. If his scent gave him away, the cloyingly sweet perfume that drifted in his wake would throw Shizu-chan off, and if it was the soft sound of his footsteps, well…

Tapping the heels of his stilettos against the base of the stool, Izaya smiled to himself, feeling the sheen of lipstick tug unfamiliarly at his lips. Ah, he wouldn't go as far as to wish Shizuo did provide some distraction he thought, crossing his legs sensuously just to feel the way the silky material of his dress brushed against smooth skin. It was just that the night so far had proved such a let down. His target for the evening – the son of a foreign affairs minister who was using Daddy's contacts to undercut some more established weapons dealers who were after a little more negotiating leverage – was still ensconced at his table with a bevy of bland bimbos, none of whom looked at good as Izaya did, and every creep in the entire club had offered to buy him a drink at least once.

"He's got a weakness for pretty girls," his contact had said, "bet if you got that secretary of yours to flirt with him a while he'd get real chatty."

Che. As if he'd send a girl in to do a woman's job…

Twirling a strand of the long dark wig he wore around his finger, he checked surreptitiously that the recording device was still in place. The mic had been sewn into the glittering diamante detail at the neckline of the dress, while the recorder itself was tucked into the padded bra that gave him the illusion of curves. Nothing too over-the-top, although he'd made sure he was at least the same size as Namie. He supposed if he got bored enough, he could go and seduce her brother. Scrutinizing the glossy red fake nails, he frowned; no, it wasn't humanly possibly to be that bored, even if it would have been fun to be able to crow that even Izaya in a dress got further with the brat than Namie ever did.

And he would get further tonight, too. He didn't settle for failure. Picking up his glass, he decided that a hip-swaying sashay past the target's table would probably help his cause. So might a damsel-in-distress little stumble – nothing pathetic, just enough to get his attention, tug on the heart strings a little, get him to buy Izaya another drink – and as much as these shoes hurt his feet, that might not even be much of an act.

He was halfway there when a crowd emerged from the dance floor, blocking his path as they headed for the bar. Annoyed, Izaya narrowed mascara-lined eyes to glare in their general direction, when he thought he caught sight of a tall blond at the bar.

Was that…?

No. It couldn't be. For one, Shizu-chan could never afford the cover charge of a place like this. The protozoan's standard was closer to a six pack from the grocery store than champagne and cocktails at a VIP club. Heh, he'd avoid clubs like these on principle, Izaya thought, just in case someone mistook him for the staff.

He was just making disjointed associations, that was all. Just because he'd been thinking about the monster for no good reason. Shaking off the unease, he took advantage of the interruption to set his purse on the bar and check his appearance in the small handheld compact mirror. No, still prettier than the girls at the target's table. No reason at all he shouldn't be able to slip right into the circle, get what he came for and get out. At least, get somewhere he could kick off these torture devices.

When he looked up, he couldn't see any reason for alarm. The crowd at the bar had thinned a little, enough for him to continue on with the plan. With confident, slinky strides that gave away nothing of how much his feet hurt, he'd just set off towards the table at the back when he heard:

"What'll you have, Shizuo?"

"Ah, I don't know… Gimme something that doesn't taste bitter."

The surprise made him turn to try and find the source of that voice. If his cover had been blown, then he might as well kiss the job goodbye. But all he managed to find was the elbow of some jackass blundering from the bar without looking where he was going. His heel caught on thin air, and with one hand clutching the purse and the other clinging to the glass, Izaya had nothing to brace himself with as he started to trip.

No, no, no, it was meant to be far more choreographed than this! This wasn't dainty accident, this was a never-walked-in-heels-before flail, and if he knocked himself out when he landed and someone started poking where they really shouldn't…

Except all he hit was a warm wall of muscle.

"Oi... careful."

Sh-Shizu-chan…!

Struggling free like a cat in water, he stumbled back, staring wide eyed and waiting for the second Shizuo recognized him and snarled his name.

But it never came. Instead, concerned brown eyes peered down at him. "You okay?"

It took an attempt or three to find his voice. On the bright side, at least he didn't need to worry about disguising it, because the sound that came from his lips wasn't like anything either of them would have heard before.

"Yes, I'm… I'm fine. Thank you."

Shizuo smiled a little bashfully and averted his gaze like he'd only just noticed he was starting too hard, and Izaya didn't think he'd seen that before either. "Ah… don't worry about it. I mean, it's no problem. I was standing right there, so…"

"Well…" Izaya breathed, heart still racing but something calming deep inside at the realization that Shizu-chan really didn't know who he was. He knew the whole get-up was convincing, but… Ah, he wasn't going to question it. The best thing he could do was get as far away from the protozoan as he could before he pushed it too far. Slipped, maybe, and called him 'Shizu-chan'. "Lucky for me, hmm?"

"Uh, well…"

"But I'm sorry, you'll have to excuse me." He smiled, lowering his gaze chastely. "Thank you again for breaking my fall."

If he tripped again as he turned and sashayed from the bar, he swore he'd rather crawl on his hands and knees to the door than have Shizuo help him again. Not that Shizuo knew who he'd helped, but the principle was the same. Izaya would know. Next time that warm, strong chest body-checked him into the path of an oncoming building, he'd remember.

And if it wasn't enough to add injury to insult, the idiot of a target had slipped away from his table, leaving the gaggle of girls gossiping and giggling together like a high school clique. Izaya was left to circle the perimeter of the room as though that had been his intention all along, as he tried to pretend Shizuo's gaze wasn't burning into him with every step.

One last try, he told himself. One last shot at getting the information he set out to obtain, and then he'd leave.

Because the night had just become very complicated.

"…Hey, Shizuo, are you listening?"

"Yeah," he lied, still watching the girl in the black dress as she glided around the far side of the room. Damn it, every time she moved, he could still feel the way she'd felt in his arms, even if she couldn't have been there longer than three seconds. Rubbing the front of his shirt absently, he heard Tom sigh.

"No you're not. You're still pining over her."

"No I'm not," Shizuo grumbled. "I was just… thinking."

"About that girl. You should go talk to her," Tom said. "She seemed interested."

"Tch, no she didn't."

Okay, she hadn't stared at him with quite the same sort of terrified abhorrence people usually did, but maybe that was because she had no idea who he was. But she'd been damned eager to put as much distance between them as possible, as fast as she possibly could. Still, whatever put that startled expression on her face, it hadn't been interest. Hadn't been anywhere close to it.

His boss shook his head. "Man, you must be blind. I know you haven't done this a lot, but believe me, that was an interested look." Tom paused. "She did look familiar though… wonder if we've met her somewhere before?"

"Doubt it."

"Ah, you're probably right," Tom smiled wryly. "It's not as though we get to mingle in these circles all that often, huh?"

And they wouldn't be here now if one of their clients hadn't tried to bribe them into deferring his debt repayments by plying them with VIP introduction passes to this place. Of course it hadn't worked; the guy had still managed to cough up his dues by the time Shizuo was done snarling at him, but somewhere between the whining and pleading and begging for his life like Shizuo was good enough to kill him by scowling alone, the guy must have forgotten all about the passes. He hadn't demanded them back, anyway, and Shizuo had been dumb enough to let Tom convince him it'd be a waste not to use them.

Sitting at a fancy bar in the middle of a room of fricking asshats, Shizuo thought he'd have been happier taking a six pack home to drink in front of the TV. He had no idea why people came to places like this, 'cept to pose and act like a jerkass. Like the one who'd shoved right into that girl's path without giving a crap as to whether she was there or not. Hell, she could have gotten hurt, just because some loud idiot wasn't paying attention.

Taking a sip of whatever Tom had wound up ordering for him – he hadn't caught the name, but it tasted like Midori mixed with something that smelled distinctly of vanilla – he watched the girl deftly avoid the attentions of some souped-up lech in the far corner, flicking a long strand of dark hair over her shoulder as she headed for the other side of the bar.

"Um…" Tom leaned in closer, sounding thoroughly amused. "You're growling. You do know that, right?"

"No I wasn't." Shizuo knocked back the rest of his drink. "Order me another one of those."

Tom flagged the bartender over to do just that, even though he wasn't even a quarter of the way through his own bourbon. Shizuo'd wanted to go home and get changed first, but it wouldn't have been worth the effort; the staff here were dressed in stylish black on black, nothing as old hat as bow-ties and vests on show. "Go easy on them, yeah? I still want you at work in the morning."

"I'll be fine." Accepting the drink and tossing aside the assortment of glittery sticks that came with it, Shizuo took another sip. "Takes more than something like this to get me drunk."

"Well," Tom shrugged, "just be careful. Just because it's sweet doesn't mean it can't kick your ass."

His boss wasn't even talking about that girl, but that was where Shizuo's gaze went anyway. What the hell was it about her that turned his head when no one else in the whole fricking room barely warranted a glance?

She'd taken a seat at the furthest end of the bar across from them, ordering something no doubt more sophisticated than Shizuo's palate could manage with a flash of a sweet, sly smile at the bartender. Dark red nails gleamed glossily in the accented lighting as she rummaged around in her purse, bringing out a small mirror to check her make-up. Maybe that was it; she didn't look caked in the stuff like a lot of girls in 'bukuro. Just shadowy eyes and a sheen of gloss on her lips that she topped up with something that came with a tube and a little wand at the end.

Seriously, it was a whole foreign world, one that left him entirely out of his depth. But what was he supposed to do? He didn't have any sisters, and his closest female friend didn't have a head. So unless Tom or Kasuka had hobbies he really didn't know about, make up was gonna be one of those things he'd never totally understand.

One of the bartenders left the side gate open as he left with a crate of dirty glasses, and Shizuo couldn't help appreciating the way the gap in the bar revealed a long expanse of pale leg and black skirt.

At his side, Tom chuckled. "Are you still going to tell me you're not interested?"

"Oi, I said she wasn't interested." Shizuo swirled his drink around the glass. "I'm not gonna get in her way if she doesn't wanna know."

"Still… not like you to pay much attention to anyone," Tom mused. "That alone should be enough reason for you to go for it."

"Tch… drop it, okay? I don't even know her."

"And that's what the 'So, can I buy you a drink?' conversation is for. Come on…" Tom butted shoulders with him. "When was the last time you let yourself have a little fun?"

Precisely never. Him having fun had a tendency to blow up in his face, and he had no reason to think it'd be any different tonight.

…even if that girl was really hot.

He couldn't even pinpoint why. Sure, she was tall for a girl, not particularly curvy, her milky skin only made more eye-catching by that black dress. And it kinda helped that his eye was well and truly caught by that slit in the skirt that went all the way up from the edge of a complicated looking strappy stiletto to one pale slender thigh.

Elegant, he thought. Classy in a way that was miles out of his league. But really, there were a lot of girls that looked like that in here tonight.

No, it was just something about her eyes, dark and smoky and glinting with the promise of equally dark and smoky things. Something about the way she commanded the whole room from her perch at the bar, coyly twirling a strand of long dark hair around her fingertip as she smiled, and tilted her head, and dismissed the latest suitor to dare offer to buy her a drink. Something about the way it enraged and enchanted him all at once for no good reason.

"What's the worst she could do, huh?" Tom said. "Turn you down and throw her drink in your face. At least you'll have tried, right?"

Shizuo glared, but the alcohol was turning it a little bit fuzzier around the edges. "If you're trying to talk me into it, it's not working."

Tom shook his head. "I'm just telling you to go for it. Trust me, she's into you. You know the way you keep trying not to look over there? She keeps trying not to look over here. You made an impression on her, that's for sure. And seeing as it wasn't one made with flying vending machines, you've already gotten further than usual."

"Not fricking funny."

"Look, just give it a shot and I won't breathe a word about it again. Just don't expect me to go easy on you if you roll into work tomorrow with a hangover and sexually frustrated. Because all I'm gonna do is remind you of the chance you passed up tonight and tell you to quit taking the fact you could have gotten laid and didn't out on our clients."

Shizuo watched the girl across the bar run her red-tipped fingernails lazily up and down the stem of her wine-glass. He didn't know that the getting laid part would be such a great idea, but he couldn't deny the urge to just… get closer to her. See those eyes and that smile up a little nearer.

"It'll be good for you," Tom said, sounding as though he'd made his mind up even if Shizuo hadn't. "Besides, you're about the least sleazy guy in here, and women have an excellent radar for that sort of thing, so it'll count for something. Now go."

"Oi, Tom—"

"Go."

"…Goddamnit."

With little choice left, Shizuo took another sip of his throat-searingly sweet drink to soothe his jangled nerves, and went.

A circuit of the club hadn't revealed his target's whereabouts, but seeing as the only place left to check was the men's bathroom – not possible, in this dress – and the dance floor – not appealing, in these shoes – Izaya decided to return to the bar and wait it out. It was one of those long double-sided affairs, the bartenders seemingly locked up in the middle with no means of escape until every grope-happy loser in the room was suitably intoxicated, so it was easy enough to take a seat at the furthest point away from Shizu-chan and his boss.

Resisting the urge to massage his feet, he ordered another half-glass of water that, at a distance and if you were drunk off your ass, looked enough like vodka to give the impression that he was partaking.

Sighing, he propped his chin on his hand as he swirled the ice cubes around his glass, the silver charm bracelets he wore jangling on his wrists. There had to be a better way to make money and observe humans at the same time. He'd been watching the bartenders curiously – people always said they were like therapists, ne? Maybe it was an avenue to explore… - when movement at the corner of the bar he was studiously avoiding caught his eye.

At least until the blond stood, lumbering a little awkwardly away from the bar.

And Shizu-chan could have been going anywhere; to the bathroom, to the dance floor, to harass some other innocent person who was simply trying to enjoy a protozoan-free evening. But as Izaya watched him skirt the bar, the doubt began creeping higher.

Shizuo wasn't coming over here, was he…?

Oh God, he was. Izaya wasn't sure whether fall off his stool with laughter or be utterly horrified, eventually settling on an ill-judged combination of both. But escape was always futile when it came to Shizu-chan.

"Can I, uh… drink you a buy? Shit…" Shizuo scowled, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I mean buy you a drink. Can I buy you a drink?"

Biting his lip so hard he swore the waxy taste of lipstick was tinged with a hint of copper, Izaya nodded, waiting until the blond took a sip of his own drink for Dutch courage before speaking.

"In that case, I'll have a Screaming Orgasm." Watching Shizuo choke on his drink from the corner of his eye, he smiled, idly twisting his empty glass back and forth. "Hmm, but you strike me as a Slow Comfortable Screw kind of man, am I right?"

Wiping his eyes with a napkin, Shizuo stared at him, a flush staining his cheeks. "I… huh?"

"Drinks." Izaya picked up a discarded cocktail umbrella, twirling it between his fingers. "This place is renowned for its cocktails."

"Co… Oh." Shizu-chan looked terribly relieved at that, at least until it dawned on him that he'd have to repeat that to the bartender. "Uh, are you sure you wouldn't just like another one of those?"

It wouldn't do to have Shizuo spontaneously combust from his embarrassment this early into the game. Because it was a game now. Izaya was nothing if not adaptable, and if Shizu-chan wanted to come over of his own volition then it was open season on pushing monsters to the brink of humiliation and booting them over.

Shizuo didn't look that drunk, either, so Izaya couldn't blame his sudden flea-blinkers on the alcohol… what on earth was Shizu-chan drinking, anyway? Izaya could feel himself sliding closer to diabetes just by breathing in the fumes.

"No," he shook his head, pushing away his water with a soft sigh. "But ah, if you really don't have the nerve to order what I really want, I suppose you can buy me a glass of red wine."

"Oi…" Shizuo snagged the attention of the bartender, a big buffed guy who could have been Simon's kid brother. "Another one of these," the blond held up his own glass, and Izaya thought it was cute someone else had obviously been ordering for him up till now. Aww, is this Shizu-chan's first adventure into the world without a wingman? How cute!"And a, uh… Screaming Orgasm." The words came out for fast they crashed into each other. "For the lady."

The bartender glanced at Izaya, then back at Shizuo, before turning away to fulfill their orders with a knowing sort of smile. "Good luck with that."

Shizuo scowled past his blush, but evidently the glucose hit in a glass he'd been drinking had smoothed the edges of his temper. Though come to think of it, a drunk Shizuo hadn't been a mellower Shizuo in the past…

Maybe it's just the company, ne?

"So, uh… do you, y'know… come here often?"

Oh, Shizu-chan was far too adorable for his own good. Izaya found himself hoping he'd have some time to make himself a private copy of the audio data, because he was suddenly filled with visions of hiring one of those trucks they used to make announcements about your electricity supply being turned off in rolling blackouts, and driving it through Ikebukuro with the tape of this playing. Loudly.

"This is my first time," he smiled coyly. "Be gentle with me, ne?"

Shizuo blushed at that, and looked away, and Izaya was struck with the wholly unwelcome thought that Shizu-chan probably would be. Or he'd try his best, at least; a beast didn't change its nature, after all. And Izaya wasn't even a woman, but something tightened in his belly at the sudden image of being spread out under Shizuo, cherished and swept away all at once.

Shaking off the thought, he reached gratefully for the drinks the bartender set out before them. Shizuo drained his glass before doing the same, although he seemed a little more circumspect with this one, swirling it slowly and staring at it as though he was falling for the same old delusion all drunks did, that the answers to the universe lay at the bottom of his glass.

"I'm, uh, Shizuo."

It was so tempting to ask 'can I call you Shizu-chan?', but either that would blow his cover, or the mere reminder of his other existence would make Shizuo blow his top. Instead, Izaya extended a hand delicately. "Kanra. It's a pleasure to meet you, Shizuo."

Strong fingers wrapped around his, and he noticed just how small and feminine his hands looked generally when up against Shizu-chan's paws. Still… they were warmer and softer than he'd have imagined. Usually he only got to see them tearing street signs or safety barriers from their moorings to throw in his direction. He'd never have guessed if he didn't already know that that was the sort of thing these hands did in their spare time.

"Yeah, likewise, Kanra…"

He'd heard the way Shizuo bellowed out the three syllables of his name so often, he barely recognized the gentle murmur of his favourite pseudonym. But there was none of the usual fury in that shy smile.

Ah, now this was what he'd had in mind for tonight. Not with Shizu-chan, obviously, but that triumphant moment of sliding past someone's mask to see the ugliness that lay beneath. Izaya was always quite free with his love – at least when it came to humans – and had no real desire for them to reciprocate, so he really didn't understand how they became so desperate when they thought it was on offer. Not even love. Just a crumb of affection, a hint of tolerance for all their otherwise unbearable traits and habits. For someone who'd offer a smile instead of a sneer, even if was only for an evening, only for an hour. Ah, humans were pretty pathetic really, but that's what made them all the more loveable.

It was only in that moment of desperation, that naked second of soul-baring, terrifying need, did they allow you a true glimpse of what lay behind all the pomp and circumstance. And it revealed itself so readily when they were several storeys high and looking down at a sheer drop to concrete, but he found that offering emotional suicide seemed to have the same effect. Humans were just silly enough to think that this one wouldn't hurt as much as the other, wasn't as final, when it was the same handwritten invite to certain doom. It just came with a more flourished signature, that was all.

"So, what are you doing here tonight, Shizuo?" He asked, crossing his legs demurely if only to watch Shizuo try so hard not to look. Such a gentleman. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but you don't seem like the… usual clientele."

"Ah, I'm here with my boss." Shizuo tilted his head towards the other side of the bar. "He's over…" The blond frowned. "Well, he was over there. Guess he had his eye on someone too. Uh, not that I did…! I mean, I wasn't, you know, looking or anything…"

Izaya giggled. "So you make a habit of buying drinks for girls you don't have your eye on?"

"No, I…" Shizuo's frown eased a little at the way Izaya couldn't stop laughing. "You're screwing with me, right?"

"Ah, just a little." Izaya tilted his head, flicking his hair back over his shoulder. "You're cute when you're flustered, Shizu-chan."

Oh, crap…

"I'm sorry," Izaya took a sip of his drink, making a play out of sucking on the straw, leaving a smudge of lipstick along the narrow barrel. "That was presumptuous of me. Do you mind me calling you Shizu-chan?"

Shizuo's eyes narrowed, but he just shrugged. Clearly, the normally mortifying nickname was perfectly acceptable coming from a pretty girl instead of Izaya. Che…

"Nah, it's okay."

Liar. You hate it when I do it.

Izaya looked up from beneath mascara-dark lashes, smiling as he tapped the straw back and forth with coy little flicks of his nails. "You can call me Kanra-chan if you like."

Shizuo wouldn't of course, far too much of an anally retentive gentleman to break those societal norms with a girl he'd just met.

"So, uh… are you here with friends, or…?"

"Oh, no, I'm here for work. I mean, I come here after work." Izaya kicked himself for being distracted enough to slip like that. 'Work' in the context of the way he was dressed tonight had an entirely different connotation, although he doubted Shizuo approved much more of his usual means of gainful employment. "I'm… in IT." Because Shizuo wouldn't have the first clue about that industry, not if he was still using that ugly orange antiquated phone of his. "What about you?"

"Me? I'm ah, uh…" Shizuo squinted off into middle distance. "I guess you could say I'm in finance."

Izaya almost snorted his drink through his nose at the sheer audacity of that little fudging of the truth. "Ah, finance? Really? Investment banking?"

"Uh, no, more like financial…" the rusty gears of Shizuo's brain all but creaked as they screeched to life, "…reclamation."

Trying to hide his laughter behind his glass, Izaya nodded. "Sounds exciting."

"Nah, not really. Most of the time it just kinda pisses me off. But I get to work for my friend – he was the guy I was telling you about, the one I came here with – and that part's great. He's done a hell of a lot for me, so it's good to be able to do something in return, you know?"

"Ah, you sound close."

"Known him since middle school." Shizuo nodded. "He's a good guy."

"Will he mind you leaving him alone to come and talk to me?"

"Yeah, he was the… Yeah, he'll be fine."

"What about your girlfriend, ne? Won't she be mad to find out you've been partying like this without her?"

"Tch…" Shizuo laughed a little. "No girlfriend."

"Really?" Was that just enough incredulity in his tone? Izaya didn't think so, and added a hand on Shizuo's arm for good measure. "A guy like you? I find that very hard to believe."

"Yeah, well…" Shizuo stared at his hand, like something exotic and possibly poisonous was creeping along his shirtsleeve instead. "It's kinda hard to meet anybody. See, there's this guy—"

"A guy?" He didn't need to feign too much surprise there. "Oh no, are you…?"

"Huh? Oh, no, I don't mean like that…!" Vaguely panicked, Shizuo shook his head. "Nah, I just meant he's always making trouble for me. So I kinda have this reputation now that… tends to put people off."

"Ah, well, that's a relief…" Izaya curled his lips into a slow smile. "You know that saying, 'all the good ones are either married or gay'? It does have some basis in reality, believe me. So if you're neither…"

Huffing a wry chuckle, Shizuo shook his head. "Dunno about the good guy part either."

"But you would be, ne? If it wasn't for this troublemaker making your life difficult?"

"Ah, maybe…"

Whatever he was, Shizu-chan would never pick up more than a cold if this was his usual pick-up routine. Honestly… clichéd lines, silly mistruths and strangely candid honesty. Who was ever going to go for that?

Well… fine, when he wasn't raging like a maniac, Shizuo had surprisingly expressive eyes. Next time they met in normal circumstances, Izaya decided he was going to aim at those sunglasses first; Shizu-chan would be much easier to read that way. And they really were an unusual shade of brown, a leonine caramel colour that shifted from mocha to gold depending on the lighting. Right now they were at the darker end of the spectrum, a rich melting toffee in the dim lights of the bar.

He looked away when it occurred to him that the only reason he'd know that was if he'd been gazing into Shizu-chan's eyes far too long.

"Well, then…" he averted his stare back to his drink, methodically wiping the lipstick traces off the straw. "Maybe you should settle things with this other man once and for all. It's not fair that your life's being affected that way, ne? It's not fair that he's holding you back from enjoying the kind of like you want."

"Tch, it'd be settled pretty damn quick if he left me alone."

"Why do you think he doesn't?"

"I…" Shizuo frowned. "Hell if I know. Because he gets off on that sort of crap, on messing around with people. Y'know, sometimes I think he's just a lonely bastard who screws people over just so they notice him. I can't stand that…"

Jabbing at the ice cubes in his glass with the straw, Izaya strove to keep his voice steady. "You can't stand lonely people?"

"Huh? No, not that. It sucks to feel lonely…" Shizuo shook his head, a tension in his tone that gave away the fact that was first-hand knowledge. "But you don't fix that shit by messing with people's heads and involving them in shady games. You don't fix it by acting like it ain't a problem in the first place and just… lying about it all the time."

"Hmm…"

Ah, I really do hate you, Shizu-chan…

"Ah, sorry, this is probably the most boring conversation you've ever had, right?" Shizuo ducked his head bashfully. "I don't usually bitch about people to strangers like that."

"I'm not a stranger, ne?" Izaya lifted his head, plastering on a smile. "I'm Kanra-chan!"

"Yeah…" Something softened in Shizuo's eyes that made him look away again. "Thanks."

"Well, we're even now, ne?" Smoothing down imaginary creases from his skirt, he angled his body towards Shizuo's. "I don't know what I'd have done without you back there, Shizuo. I'd have fallen if it wasn't for you."

Shizuo mumbled something no doubt gallant and self-effacing, but Izaya's attention was mercifully directed elsewhere. From the corner of his eye, he saw his target again, heading for the dance floor with a couple of girls. And without thinking, he'd hopped off the bar stool, tugging Shizuo's hand to follow him.

"Huh?" Shizuo blinked. "Where are we going?"

"You're taking me dancing, Shizu-chan."

Wait… what?

"D-dance? Oh, no, I don't dance. Ever."

Kanra smiled, tugging his hand. "You do now."

He had to leave his drink at the bar, because Kanra was already dragging him in the direction of the dance floor. With every step, he could feel the pounding bass reverberating harder through the floor. There was probably some rhythm to it, some beat, but Shizuo's body resoundly refused to move with it.

Kanra on the other hand was already walking with more of a hypnotic sway to her hips as they stepped through from the bar area to the main floor. He couldn't quite justify how much he was staring at her ass as an attempt to pick up dance moves… but it was pert and rounded under her clingy dress, and he could all but make out the dip at the small of her back as she walked. He felt the possessive urge to place his hand there as a warning to anyone else in a ten mile radius that this girl he'd met half an hour ago but felt like he'd known her forever was his, damn it.

And then arguing at all was futile, because she wouldn't hear him past the music anyway. With a secretive smile, she glanced back over her shoulder as she led him deeper into the crowd, flashes of rainbow coloured lights turning her pale skin near iridescent. He almost crashed into her when she stopped suddenly, pressed so close as she turned that he felt the swish of her skirt against his pants.

He tried to take a step back as she wound slender arms around his shoulders, but there were already people closing in behind him and there was nowhere to go. And he had to wonder why the hell he'd want to go anywhere when Kanra pressed against him, looking up through a thick fringe of lashes with that devil incarnate smile.

"Relax, Shizu-chan," she mouthed, lips looking wet and glossy in the pulsing light. "Just move with me, ne?"

Shizuo didn't want to move. As he slid his hands tentatively around her waist, feeling the swell of her breasts pressing against his chest, something in the back of his mind decided that staying like this for the next few years would be okay. Even when pale shoulders shook with laughter he couldn't hear but could damn well feel, even when she looked up at him with an 'you really are hopeless' shake of the head, he couldn't do much more than hold on, skimming her narrow waist with his fingers as the sweet scent of her perfume tickled his nose. It felt a little familiar too… maybe she smelled of vanilla, or sweet exotic fruits, like his drink had. Either way, it sent a surge of adrenaline through his veins, making him hyper aware of the way her body slid against his him time to the music.

Was this why people put themselves through crap like this? Just for that second when someone fit this right in your arms, when just the way they smiled was enough to get you doing it too?

He felt her back arch slightly as he held her closer, curling his fingers against the small of her back like he'd wanted to do earlier. Palms sliding down his chest, Kanra's nails scraped through the fabric of his shirt, drawing rough little shivers in their wake.

They still weren't really dancing; there wasn't much room for it for one, and for two, Shizuo had a feeling he'd probably stomp all over Kanra's feet if he tried. Kanra didn't seem to mind too much. Slinking around in Shizuo's arms until her back was pressed against his chest and his hands were smoothed over her flat stomach, she reached one hand back into his hair, and he went with it as she tugged him down, lips brushing the pale curve of one shoulder. He felt her jerk slightly against him as he blew a strand of dark hair out of the way, licking playfully, but it might have been wiser not to tease.

Hands overlapping his, she drew his palms to her hips as she rocked sinuously from side to side, grinding back into him, body rising and falling in rhythm with the beat. The heat of the dance floor made his shirt stick to his skin, dragging in a not-altogether-unpleasant way every time Kanra's back arched, every time she dipped down, every time sharply angled shoulder blades rubbed the front of his uniform until the shirt tails came loose from the pants.

She yanked him closer by the belt buckle as the song shifted to something with a more erratic tempo. Or at least he thought it did. Maybe it was his heartbeat, racing in his chest every damn time she touched him. It was all he could do to keep from getting achingly hard when her fingers grazed his skin, cool and soft even in the sticky humidity of the club. 'Cause that wouldn't be embarrassing in the slightest, scaring off the one girl who'd paid this much attention to him in forever with a hard-on the size of the Sky Tree…

But fuck, now and then he caught that gleam in her eyes that told him in no uncertain terms that she knew how hard he was holding back. That it wasn't about the heat, or the touches, or the fact he hadn't gotten laid, but about her. About those eyes and that smile and the way he'd never met anyone who'd been able to get under his skin from the second they met.

Well… almost anyone.

He wouldn't have pushed for more anyway – getting all touchy-feely in public pissed him off… - but while her hands were roaming everywhere on him, he had the feeling she was strictly controlling where he could touch her. Any time his thumbs so much as brushed a little higher on her ribcage, inching a fraction closer to her breasts, those slender fingers would be around his wrists, directing him elsewhere. Shizuo was okay with that. Apart from that ass, she wasn't all that soft or curvy to hold onto, but he kinda liked the way she felt under his hands, lean muscle shifting under the satiny dress. Athletic, he figured. Was that the thing girls aspired to now? One second it's boobs like watermelons, next it's washboard abs… make up your damn minds, hah?

And maybe his mind had been drifting ever since he thought of the damn flea – and who the hell would think of him when they were in a position like this, hah? – but Kanra caught on pretty damn fast to the way his attention was veering elsewhere. Maybe Tom was right, and girls just had a radar for that kind of thing. They knew when you were thinking about someone else while you were holding them.

Soft lips brushed his ear as she leaned up to make herself heard over the music, "Need a break?"

"Ah, yeah, probably."

Kanra took his hand again, tugging him towards a set of double doors at the far end of the room. She was laughing as they shoved open the door to a small first floor balcony, the cool night air crashing like an ice cold shower on feverish skin.

"See? You can dance when you put your mind to it, ne?"

"Tch, that wasn't dancing."

"No," Still shifting slightly to the muted beat, like she couldn't quite stand still, Kanra met his grin with a slow smile. "But it was fun, ne? And maybe you can do some other things too, if you put the same sort of effort in."

Shaking his head, Shizuo plucked his cigarettes and lighter from his pockets, about to light up when thin fingers snatched the cigarette from between his lips.

"Ah, sorry… does the smoke bug you?"

"No." Kanra shook her head, leaning up on tiptoes in those dangerous shoes, lips so close to his he could feel her breath on his tongue just before she kissed him. "I just want to do something else with your mouth."

Oh. This was not good. Really not good. Quite possibly because it was too good.

He blamed the heat, the adrenaline, the way anyone would feel, pressed up in close confines against someone like Shizuo. He wanted to know how Shizuo tasted. He wanted to know how the monster would kiss Kanra, how he'd hold her, how he'd touch her.

For a second, Shizu-chan didn't do anything, but his lips were slack enough from surprise for Izaya to press his tongue into the blond's mouth, flicking the tip teasingly against Shizuo's own. Ah, maybe he'd miscalculated and Mr. Old Fashioned here didn't like his women assertive or demanding?

Then, with a low growl that sent a jolt right down to Izaya's tucked-under cock, he was spun around and pinned back against the wall, the blond's fingers cradling his face as Shizuo kissed him back.

"Shizu-chan…"

"Kanra…" That hoarse murmur vibrated against his mouth. "S'this okay?"

"Mmm…" Izaya nodded, even though it really wasn't. Not when Shizuo kissed him again, deep and hungry, and not when the blond's hands slid down to his hips, pulling him snugly against an erection that felt abnormally huge when Izaya didn't have anything to counter it with. And yet he couldn't help rocking his hips as he reached up to grip Shizuo's hair – all the while making sure Shizuo didn't do the same to his wig – and smiling into the kiss. "How long have you wanted this, ne?"

"Shit, since the first time I saw you…" Shizuo breathed roughly, fingers squeezing almost too tight around Izaya's ass. "You're just… you're fucking beautiful."

Izaya's breath caught as the blond muffled his gasps with kisses again. Shizuo's hands were still in safe territory if they stayed on his hips, if they kept stroking over his ass. The silky material of the dress kept rubbing against his skin with every squeeze of those strong fingers, and the sticky sweet taste of the cocktails bloomed on his tongue every time Shizuo's own sucked at it. But even Shizu-chan wasn't drunk or stupid or inexperienced enough to miss the fact that everything on Izaya was just that little bit harder and flatter than it should be on a girl… was he?

The part of him that resolutely refused to stay flat despite its bounds jerked painfully between his legs as Shizuo dragged one hand along his thigh, fingers dipping under the skirt of his dress.

Ah, I knew you couldn't keep up the innocent act for long, Shizu-chan…

He'd never particularly wondered how it'd feel to have breasts before, but right now he'd have given anything – well, no, not anything; he knew too many nutjob scientists and doctors to tempt fate on that one… - to know how they'd feel, crushed up against the hard muscle of Shizuo's chest. The padded bra was realistic enough to get away with a grope or two before Shizu-chan twigged, but he couldn't feel anything through it. And he supposed he was giving Shizuo the benefit of the doubt just by assuming he'd ever squeezed real breasts and would know the difference in the first place, but… under the padding his real nipples were hard and pebbled enough that they hurt when the fabric rubbed against him.

It was all Shizu-chan's fault for being so clumsily gentle even while he was being desperately enthusiastic. Like a puppy who was convinced the food was about to be taken away forever, so he was going to take in everything he could while he had the chance. He didn't have to worry about the blond discovering his secret when Shizuo couldn't seem to keep his hands in one place for longer than a few seconds. The only places he lingered especially was the small of Izaya's back, and the side of his ribcage where the edge of the bra started, a place Izaya had never known was sensitive until now. Maybe it was just the way he could feel Shizuo's fingers, warm, strong brands through the material of his dress. Or the way Shizuo brushed his thumbs back and forth, stroking softly even as his tongue mauled Izaya's mouth, drinking him in, groaning low against his lips.

Ah, some girl's going to get lucky one day, Shizu-chan. Bruised, and possibly also suffocated, but I doubt she'll complain if she goes out this way…

He still didn't get it. Shizuo had all the reason in the world to have put two and two together here, but he hadn't. Whether the blinkers were deliberate or not, there was still something very odd about the way the blond still hadn't recognized him.

Unless he's never really looking at you in the first place, ne..?

Shivering despite the fact he couldn't feel anything, he pulled back slightly when Shizuo's fingertips brushed the underside of his fake breasts, the blond's kisses trailing down the side of his throat instead.

"Ah, we should…" We should try again, ne? Because even if you are a girl right now your voice does not sound that… needy ."We should probably take this somewhere else, ne? If you want to…?"

"Okay…" Shizuo nodded, voice husky as he murmured against Izaya's neck. "Lemme go tell my boss I'm leaving first, all right? Or he's gonna chew me out tomorrow for ditching him."

Tugging Shizuo down for another kiss, Izaya luxuriated in the rough, possessive stroke of that tongue against his own one last time before releasing his grip on the blond's uniform with a slow smile. "Hurry back."

"Yeah…"

Would Shizu-chan be permanently traumatized by the fact his would-be date ditched him in the time it took for him to seek out Tom Tanaka and report the good news? As he slipped away from the balcony, losing himself in the masses on the dance floor as he made his way towards the exit, Izaya didn't care. It served Shizuo right for being so damn duplicitous, for playing so well at being human. For wanting Kanra and for not…

Che. Well you can't have what doesn't exist, ne, Shizu-chan?

The target and the information gathering would have to wait for another night. One where Izaya had better footwear and better company. Or, preferably, no company at all. It was too much of a distraction, when he couldn't afford to make mistakes. The failure irritated him, but not as much as the behaviour he'd indulge in if he stayed might. Ah, but he wouldn't have to worry; Shizuo would kill him dead ten times over before they got that far.

So really, it was time to call it a night.

And if he thought he saw the top of a blond head fighting its way through the crowds outside the club as 'Kanra's' cab pulled away and headed towards Shinjuku, well…

It had been a long night, ne? He was probably imagining things.

"IIIIZAAAAYA-KUN!"

The ragged, torn end of the stop sign screeched as it pierced the brick wall about two inches from the flea's skull, but the sneaky little bastard kept right on smiling at him anyway. Tch, he wouldn't be smiling when he noticed the sign had snagged a tear in the shoulder of that stupid furry jacket…

"Ah, Shizu-chan…" Izaya shrugged nonchalantly. "If I didn't know better, I'd say this was your courting technique. But I'm sorry to disappoint you, I'm not looking to be wooed right now. Especially not by monsters."

"Tch, who the hell would wanna woo you?" Shizuo snarled, leaning into Izaya's space. "What's the matter Izaya-kun, not getting enough attention lately?"

"Oh?" Izaya tilted his head and smirked. "You know, you seem especially pissed off today, Shizu-chan… did something happen?"

Shizuo almost faltered. Almost. But the flea couldn't have given him better fucking ammunition than reminding him of the tremendous screw-up he'd committed last night. Even if he really didn't know how he'd screwed up…

Nah, you screwed up the second you thought she might be different. That was bad enough.

So was sulking into work that morning just for Tom to ask how things had gone. Fricking wonderful, once he'd gone back to the bar and found out the name of that cocktail and drunk himself too stupid to give a shit that he'd been left hanging. Fuck it, he still thought he could smell her perfume, how pathetic was that? He'd only known her a few minutes and he couldn't get her out of his head. He could still remember the way she tasted, the way her skin felt under his hands, the way her lashes fluttered when they kissed.

Shit… he was even so far gone that he kinda thought it'd have been good if he and Izaya were on better terms, because he couldn't think of anyone more skilled in tracking people down than the flea. He'd be able to find Kanra in a heartbeat.

But she doesn't want to be found. That's why she ditched you. Forget her.

Izaya yelped as Shizuo twisted the signpost around in the wall and yanked, landing a good half-dozen crumbled bricks on the dumbfuck louse's head.

"You wanna try asking that again, flea?" He roared. "Hah?"

"Ah, my mistake…" Gingerly rubbing the back of his head, Izaya brushed the dust meticulously from his coat with his free hand. "It was a silly thought in the firs place, ne? Shizu-chan's a monster. Of course he's not going to, you know… have his heart broken, for example."

Shizuo glared, eyes narrowing, and a bad taste stirring along with the aftershocks of his hangover. "The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." Izaya smiled serenely. "Besides, hearts are the sole preserve of humans, ne? Monsters are monsters purely because they don't feel those sort of pesky emotions. Be it you, or my dear Courier, you're only going through the motions of what you think a normal human should feel. It never really—"

The wind knocked out of the flea on a gasp as Shizuo gripped him by the shirtfront and slammed him back hard against the broken wall. He hadn't even noticed Izaya withdrawing his knife until the impact sent it skittering off along the alley floor.

"Shut the fuck up about shit you don't have the first fricking clue about. If anyone doesn't have a goddamn heart, that'd be you, you sly shitty louse!"

"Ah, Shizu-chan… you really shouldn't have done that…"

"What?" He loomed closer, forehead pressed against Izaya's until the flea's eyes were a dark, smoky blur of thick lashes and mahogany malice. "Kicked your ass."

"No." Izaya smiled, shaking his head, while the voice Shizuo had been hearing in his head all goddamn night spilled from the flea's lips as they leaned in to brush against his in a stunning lick of electricity. "Gotten so close, ne? It makes me want to do other things with your mouth all over again."

And for a second, Shizuo could only stare, slack-jawed and dumbstruck, trying in vain to piece together all the fragments of his mind after it'd just been blown to smithereens.

No… Izaya wasn't… he couldn't be… 'cause that'd mean…

"Fuck it… I kissed you!"

"Mm-hmm." Izaya nodded, tapping a finger against his lips thoughtfully. All Shizuo could see when he did it was shimmery gloss and red nails and the way Kanra had smiled at him as she sipped her drink suggestively. "It wasn't bad. Decent. Not great. You could use some work. Ah, but you can't find anyone to help you practice, ne?"

Giggling, the flea ducked easily as Shizuo slammed his fist into the wall where Izaya's head had been a moment earlier.

"You goddamn…!" He couldn't even form words. Fury and the sort of humiliation that made him wish he could punch a hole in the earth that might swallow him up wouldn't even let him think straight, let alone do something as complex as vocabulary. "You… YOU!"

"Me, Shizu-chan." Taking advantage of the way shock made his limbs noodly and unresponsive, Izaya squirmed free, picking up his knife as he darted off down the alleyway, pausing at the mouth long enough to turn around and smile. "Ah, before you start getting any ideas, I wasn't there for you, I was just working. You're the one who came onto me, remember? But it was fun, ne? We should do it again."

Izaya leapt out of the way when a chunk of masonry twice his size crashed towards the mouth of the alley. But the asshole wasn't done, peeking around the corner with a victorious little smile. "Oh, but a bit of a tip, Shizu-chan? Never lie about your job. Women today are so mercenary, they'll look down on you for misleading them on your income. Well, I'll see you around, ne!"

There was nothing left in the alley that would hurt enough when it squashed the fucking flea like the asshole pest he really was. No, Shizuo needed something bigger. Like maybe a truck. Or a train.

Or those goddamn fuck-me shoes. He had a good idea where to fuck Izaya with them, too. With a roar that made his alcohol-abused skull pound and the city quake a little on its axis, he sprinted after the skipping flea.

"Not if I fucking kill you first!"